


Doppleganger Conspiracy

by Brumeier



Series: Alternate Earths 'verse [5]
Category: NCIS, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: ushobwri, Conspiracy, First Kiss, Interrogation, M/M, Murder, Not Really Character Death, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8288078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: A visit to a nearly-identical Earth starts with a murder and ends with a conspiracy, and in between it's all Rodney can do to keep from falling apart.





	

“Let me through!” Rodney struggled against the uniformed officers that restrained him. “I need to be…I have to…Ford!”

“It’s okay,” someone said. A man in a blue windbreaker and a baseball cap with NCIS stitched onto it. “Let him through.”

Rodney's stomach was in knots. It was a mistake, he was sure of it. A coincidence. But he had to make sure, had to confirm for himself what Ford’s blank expression and painfully stiff posture meant.

He got there just as they were zipping up the body bag, and suddenly he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. John’s face was slack in death, his eyes half open but seeing nothing. His face was splattered with blood.

_All my fault. All my fault._

“Dr. McKay,” Ford said. He might have been doing an excellent impersonation of a stoic Marine, but there was an undeniable tremor in his voice.

Rodney watched as John’s body was loaded into the medical examiner’s van. Looked down at the spot where he’d lain, the blood pool thick and viscous on the concrete.

_All my fault. All my fault._

“I have some questions,” the man in the baseball cap said.

*o*o*o*

Rodney sat in a bland room on an uncomfortable chair, his hands clenched tightly together on the table. Someone had brought him a cup of coffee, which was cooling at his elbow. They’d separated him from Analise and Ford, officially to get their statements. Unofficially, it felt an awful lot like an interrogation.

“You were supposed to meet at Lincoln Park,” Agent Gibbs prodded. He was the man in the baseball cap, some kind of military investigator.

He was investigating John’s death. Homicide, Gibbs had said, because John hadn’t just dropped dead in the middle of the park. Someone had killed him. Slit his throat, and all Rodney could think about was John choking on his own blood and dying surrounded by strangers.

“It was my idea. Splitting up. I thought…”

It should have been an easy excursion. AE-14 was another nearly identical Earth, and Rodney had suggested they each go off on their own. Cover more ground. It wasn’t like they were on the world with the tentacle monsters; nothing should have happened. John had argued with him about it, and Rodney had insisted he didn’t need a babysitter.

But John had.

“You thought?”

“We should’ve been safe here,” Rodney said, looking down at his hands. “Pretty stupid, right? Even on my…everyone knows D.C. can be a dangerous city.”

“So you don’t know how Major Sheppard spent the day after you all went your separate ways,” Agent Gibbs said. “You didn’t keep in touch at all? We didn’t find a cell phone.”

No point in telling Gibbs that they couldn’t take cell phones to alternate realities; it wasn’t an episode of _Doctor Who_. They had ear pieces, of course, set to a specific frequency, but hadn’t thought they’d need them in the Capitol. John’s was in the bottom of Rodney’s messenger bag.

“The plan was to meet at the park after we’d had a couple hours to look around on our own,” Rodney explained. “And then we were going to leave.”

They’d missed their ERB window, but it didn’t matter because he damn sure wasn’t going home without John. Rodney knew without a doubt John would’ve done the same for him.

“Dr. Pak tells us that you all work together. What is it you do, exactly?”

Rodney shook his head. “That’s classified.”

It belatedly occurred to him that Agent Gibbs had probably run all their names. What would they find? Did they all have alternate selves on this Earth? Was there another John Sheppard sitting around somewhere, playing a video game or flying a helicopter, having no idea that a version of himself had just been brutally murdered?

Gibbs leaned across the table. “Is there a chance that Major Sheppard’s death could be related to the work you’re doing?”

“It’s classified,” Rodney repeated. “And no. We’re from out of town. No-one knew we’d be here today.”

“Someone knew. I’m going to need your travel information. It’s possible someone tracked you here.”

Rodney didn’t know how to respond to that. Agent Gibbs probably wouldn’t believe him if he explained that they’d arrived in D.C. via a wormhole from an alternate reality. They hadn’t done anything wrong, but he could feel things about to go sideways. There wasn’t a story Rodney could spin that wouldn’t immediately be discredited and earn him a prime spot in a deep, dark hole somewhere. Did this world have a detention center at Guantanamo?

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. “You know what I think? I think you’re holding out on me. And I’m gonna –”

There was a knock on the door, and a young guy with artfully styled hair stuck his head in. 

“DiNozzo…” Gibbs didn’t sound happy about the interruption. 

“Dr. McKay has a visitor,” the young guy said.

A woman in an Air Force uniform brushed past him and entered the room, a briefcase in one hand. “Agent Gibbs. Colonel Fullwood, JAG. I’m here on behalf of my client.”

Gibbs got to his feet and shook her hand. “You sure you got the right guy, Colonel? Dr. McKay is a civilian.”

“Dr. McKay is employed by the United States Air Force, and as such is entitled to my representation. As are Lieutenant Ford and Dr. Pak.”

Fullwood was brisk and no-nonsense, and almost half the size of Gibbs even in sensible heels. Rodney wondered how much trouble he was going to be in when the Air Force realized he was the wrong McKay.

“Maybe you didn’t get the memo, but we haven’t arrested the good doctor or his friends,” Gibbs said. He didn’t look amused.

“Funny, because this looks a whole lot like an interrogation to me, and if you haven’t charged my clients then we’re leaving. They’ve given their statements, and have the right to grieve the loss of their friend.” The pint-sized Colonel Fullwood somehow gave the impression she was scowling without actually doing so.

Rodney didn’t want to grieve for John. He wanted to go back in time and make sure that they stuck together. Take back his angry words. Safety in numbers, he got it now. His throat started to close up again, and he squeezed his hands even more tightly together.

“What do you want me to do, boss?” the young guy asked.

“Cut ‘em loose, DiNozzo.”

Colonel Fullwood held out a business card. “You can contact me at this number if you need to speak with my clients any further on this matter.”

“I don’t need to tell you that the more we know about Major Sheppard’s last few hours, the better chance we’ll have of finding out who killed him. And why.”

“I have it on good authority that you’re very good at your job, Agent Gibbs,” Fullwood said curtly. “I’m sure you’ll apprehend the person responsible. My clients will assist any way they can, as long as you remember that they’re the victims here.”

“We’ll see. Colonel.”

“Gunny.”

Gibbs left the room and Colonel Fullwood turned her gaze on Rodney for the first time. “Dr. McKay, if you’ll kindly come with me.”

Rodney followed his legal counsel out of the interrogation room, where Ford and Analise were waiting. Analise’s eyes were red from crying and she immediately took hold of Rodney’s hand when she saw him.

The three of them trailed silently after Colonel Fullwood, straight through the NCIS bullpen; Rodney could feel everyone’s eyes on them. Did they really think he knew something about John’s death that he wasn’t sharing? If he wasn’t so numb he’d work up a good rant, let Gibbs have it with both barrels. 

Once they were clear of the building, Fullwood herded them into a black SUV with government plates. “You three have caused quite a lot of trouble,” she said as she climbed in.

“Who called you, ma’am?” Ford asked from the backseat. “How did you even know we were here?”

“You popped up on the radar as soon as you arrived,” Fullwood said. She had her seat up as far as it would go, and still had to sit on a pillow. “The SGC tracks all incoming wormholes.”

Rodney and Ford exchanged a look via the rearview mirror. 

“You work for the SGC?” Rodney asked. There hadn’t been one on every AE they’d visited, but Stargate Command – or a reasonable facsimile of it – turned up probably ninety percent of the time.

“I’m a JAG officer for the AR Division,” Colonel Fullwood explained. “We get more visits from alternate realities than you’d think, most of them accidental. You’re not the first group I’ve had to extract from local law enforcement.”

“What happens now?” Analise asked. “We missed our ERB window.”

“You’re lucky NCIS was only taking your statements and not searching your belongings,” Colonel Fullwood said, managing to sound like a scolding parent. “If Ms. Sciuto had gotten her hands on your wormhole device the results could have been catastrophic. But to answer your question, Dr. Pak, our technicians should be able to return you to your Earth origin.”

“Not without John,” Rodney said. 

“I’m not cleared to discuss Major Sheppard,” Colonel Fullwood replied. “As it is, our tech team is going to have a hard enough time scrubbing you from the system without arousing any undue attention. Agent Gibbs in particular has a way of ferreting these things out, and we don’t want to contribute to more conspiracy theories than necessary.”

“All due respect, ma’am,” Ford said. “But Dr. McKay is right. We’ll be taking Major Sheppard’s body home with us, so you talk to whoever you need to talk to.”

Analise echoed that sentiment, and Rodney had to close his eyes against the unexpected burn of tears. The team had begun with John, and they’d all essentially been strangers when they started traveling through the ERB, but proximity and shared experience had forged them into a strong unit. Rodney hadn’t had many friends in his life, but he counted his team amongst them.

He wondered what would happen now that John wouldn’t be a part of it.

*o*o*o*

The SGC had a satellite office in Virginia, and once again Rodney found himself in a non-descript room. This time he gratefully drank the coffee, needing the caffeine to help him keep him upright and relatively coherent. It helped that Analise and Ford were on the same side of the table, one on either side of him.

They’d explained their fledgling ERB program several times, and fielded questions by various scientists and military persons regarding their reason for coming to AE-14, and what things were different on their Earth. (On AE-14, it turned out, JFK had been assassinated and terrorists had taken down the Twin Towers in New York.)

Rodney itched to get into their computer network. All that information on alternate Earths would be infinitely helpful in focusing their missions. If they even still had missions, after what had happened.

“I’m done talking,” he said finally, after another go-round with different personnel. “We need food, and I want to know when we can expect to get back to our own reality.”

“Of course,” Captain Lorne said. He’d been quietly standing by the door during the entire interrogation process, presumably to ensure Rodney and his team didn’t make a break for it. “Are you allergic to citrus, Dr. McKay? Not all versions of you are.”

“How many of them have you met?” Rodney asked, curious.

“Seven, not counting this reality’s Dr. McKay. Eight if you count your sister.”

“I don’t have a sister.”

“He’s deathly allergic,” Analise said. 

She rubbed at the inside of her elbow, where blood had been drawn shortly after their arrival. All three of them had been subjected to a cursory medical examination. The doctor, a fresh-faced girl that seemed way too young to be practicing, had developed a test that determined they were all from the same alternate reality. Each reality had its own signature, buried deep in the DNA, she’d told them.

“I’ll make arrangements.” Lorne ducked out through the door, only to be replaced by a somber-faced Marine who took up the post.

The other scientists filed out, until they were left with Colonel Fullwood. She’d been tapping away at her phone during the question and answer period, only interjecting once in a while when someone asked a question that she deemed too personal, or irrelevant to the situation at hand, but now she looked at them with that steely gaze that made Rodney want to apologize for things he hadn’t even done.

“We have a problem.”

“You’re not sending us home, are you?” Analise crossed her arms over her chest, frowning. “You’re going to keep us here.”

The same thought had occurred to Rodney.

“Trust me when I say that one Dr. McKay is more than enough for this reality to handle,” Fullwood replied. “The problem is with Major Sheppard. We were able to reclaim his body from the medical examiner, at no small personal cost to our own coroner, because Dr. Mallard likes to talk. Incessantly.”

“We’re taking him with us,” Rodney said stubbornly. “If you have plans to do some kind of alien autopsy on him, I can promise you that I’ll –”

“Dr. McKay, calm down.”

“Then get to the point. What’s the problem?”

“The John Sheppard that was killed in Lincoln Park today was not from your reality.”

Rodney stared at her, not quite sure he heard her right. But Analise had her hand over her mouth and Ford was on his feet, and Rodney realized he was gaping with his mouth hanging open like a landed fish.

“Our Major Sheppard is alive?”

“I didn’t say that.” Colonel Fullwood got to her feet and smoothed out the wrinkles in her uniform skirt. “We tested the body that was retrieved from NCIS, and he’s our John Sheppard. We don’t know what he was doing in D.C., but him being there makes him AWOL.”

“Then our John is still out there!” Rodney pushed away from the table. He stalked across the room until he was looming over Fullwood; she didn’t seem at all intimidated. “You have to find him!”

John was alive! Rodney felt like he was going to throw up.

“A John Sheppard was detained in the vicinity of Lincoln Park twenty minutes after you were brought to the Navy Yard.”

Rodney exchanged a confused look with Analise.

“But he’s not ours?” Analise asked. “You tested him?”

“He’s from an alternate reality, but his markers aren’t the same as yours. He insists he’s with your team, but the test doesn’t bear that out.”

Rodney nodded. “I want to see him. Now.”

“Dr. McKay, I don’t –”

“Now.”

Colonel Fullwood sighed, and sent off a quick text message. “Fine. But just one of you. We’re not sure we can trust him.”

Ford clapped Rodney on the shoulder. “You’ve known him the longest. You’ll be able to tell.”

Rodney hoped like hell that was true.

*o*o*o*

John was contained in a holding cell, with two big Marines stationed on the other side of the bars. He was lounging on a cot, seemingly asleep, but Rodney could tell he wasn’t. Just as he could tell that however boneless John may have looked, he was coiled and ready to spring at the first opportunity.

He was so familiar it made Rodney’s chest ache.

“If he’s not our Sheppard, whose is he?” Rodney asked Fullwood in hushed tones. There was a heavy steel door and thick plexiglass separating them from the holding cell.

“We have no record of a wormhole opening up, and the only quantum mirror is housed at Cheyenne Mountain under lock and key.”

Logically that meant he was the John Sheppard that had come across the ERB with Rodney, Ford and Analise.

“Did you ever have any indication that he was from an alternate reality to yours?” Colonel Fullwood asked.

Rodney shook his head. John had been just as excited as he was to use the ERB to explore alternate Earths. But if he wasn’t from Rodney’s reality, where had he come from and why hadn’t he said anything?

“Do you think he’s capable of murder?” Fullwood asked.

“What? John? No!” Rodney looked at her, aghast. “You think he killed his doppelganger? For what purpose? No. He wouldn’t do that.”

He pushed through the door and past the guards, and John was on his feet in an instant, his hands wrapped around the cell bars.

“Rodney! Are you okay?”

“If you’re the John Sheppard who started the ERB project with me, prove it.”

“Rodney, you know it’s me.” There was anger on John’s face, in his voice, but there was desperation too. He wanted Rodney to believe him. So did Rodney.

“I thought it was you getting zipped up in a fucking body bag,” Rodney said. He jabbed a finger at John. “Tell me something only my John would know. Something you couldn’t just Google.”

John stepped back from the bars and gave him a contemplative look. Rodney wasn’t a praying man – he’d stopped believing in God when he was six years old – but he was fervently hoping that John would prove himself. He didn’t think he could stand losing John twice over.

“Okay,” John said finally. “I shared my cupcakes with you.”

“What were they for?”

“Delivery Guy Appreciation Day,” John replied, his lips quirking up in a grin. “I was hoping you’d appreciate me before I left, but you didn’t.”

Oh, but he had. He’d appreciated the hell out of John once he’d actually started paying attention to the new delivery guy, who turned out not to be a delivery guy at all but actually keeping Rodney under protective surveillance for the SGC.

“It’s not too late, you know.” John waggled his eyebrows.

Before the Marines could stop him, Rodney moved right up to the cell and reached through, pulling John up against the bars. As first kisses went it was awkward as hell, but Rodney finally felt everything inside him settle, and that more than anything told him he was right. This was their John Sheppard. _His_ John Sheppard.

“Don’t you ever die on me again, you asshole,” he snapped once he pulled back. His hands were fisted in John’s shirt, and John had his fingers tucked through Rodney’s belt loops. “We stick together from now on, okay? I was wrong about splitting up.”

“I’m sorry,” John whispered. 

Rodney wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but he didn’t care. He kissed John again, cold iron bars pressing against his face. 

“I think we can let Major Sheppard out now,” Colonel Fullwood said.

*o*o*o*

Rodney was more than ready to leave AE-14 behind. They stuck around for a couple of days, long enough for Agent Gibbs and his team to track down the man who’d murdered the other John Sheppard. Turned out to be totally random, just some sicko who was passing through the park and indulging in his deep desire to cut someone open from ear to ear.

It almost made Rodney nostalgic for the tentacle monster.

“I can’t wait to get home,” Analise said. “No-one’s watering my plants.”

“Don’t make any plans,” John warned her. “We missed our scheduled return time. The General’s going to insist on a lengthy debriefing.”

“Great. More interrogations.” Rodney just wanted to crawl in his bed and sleep for a few days. And then he’d work on figuring out where John was really from, because the man himself insisted he didn’t know anything about being from a reality that was different from Rodney’s. Maybe all the kissing was clouding his judgement, but Rodney believed John was telling the truth.

“Dr. McKay?” One of the lab techs approached Rodney, and held out the ERB device. Adjustments had been made to it so it would take them safely back to their Earth origin. 

Colonel Fullwood, who’d come to see them off, had also given Rodney an encrypted flash drive that held the procedures for doing genetic testing for alternate realities. The SGC wouldn’t give Rodney access to their database of registered AEs, but he planned on coming back and making another try at it.

“That’ll get you where you need to go,” the tech said. He smiled, but there was something off about it that Rodney couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe the guy was just creepy. Rodney didn’t trust any grown man who wore a ponytail.

“Come on, Rodney. Let’s get gone.” John looked eager to leave, and Rodney couldn’t blame him. He didn’t think he’d ever get the image of the other Sheppard out of his head.

Rodney plugged in the coordinates for Earth Prime and initiated the ERB. The wormhole opened up before them like a horizontal waterfall; they only had to step in to be carried back home.

“Good luck!” Colonel Fullwood called behind them.

Ford stepped through first, eager as always, and Analise followed. 

“After you,” John said with a grin.

“Together,” Rodney insisted. He held out his hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, John grabbed hold.

They crossed the ERB together, which was little more than a strong tugging sensation mixed with a bit of vertigo and weightlessness, and then they were back on solid ground.

“I’m glad that’s over,” Rodney said. 

“Uh, Doc?”

Rodney looked at Ford, who was looking at something else with wide eyes. And he knew, even before he turned around, that he wasn’t going to like it. 

He was right.

Standing not ten feet from them was a man, slurping at the neck of a second man that hung limply in his arms. The first man raised his head to look at them and there was blood dripping down his chin. He had fangs instead of teeth.

“Fuck,” Rodney said.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** Written for [Monster Fest at You Should Be Writing](http://ushobwri.livejournal.com/2016/10/12/), for Human Monster Day. Although I didn’t really spend much time on the human monster part.
> 
> This busy fic also fills the Interrogation square on my h/c bingo card, and is my entry for the [Story Works Conspiracy Theory Challenge](http://story-works.livejournal.com/17704.html). And actually, the small conspiracy has turned into a larger story arc that I now will have to figure out how to deal with. Yeesh.


End file.
